33 weeks

Wow, 33 weeks along.

This is both a good thing and a bad thing.

Good thing because it means that my second little man will arrive and I will get to hold him and kiss him and squeeze him...sorry, my inner Lenny was coming out. Moving on. 

I also get to be a mom. Now, don't get me wrong, I am a mom, I was a great mom to Brendan while he was on earth, but I didn't get the whole experience because he was in the hospital for so long. This time I get to experience the no sleep, crying, feeding, changing diapers all night that comes with having a newborn at home.

This is a bad thing because at the current time, there is no place for him to sleep. There is barely a place for me to sleep.

So help me if this child comes early I am going to have a panic attack. Well, I am sure that the panic attack will be overshadowed by the contractions and the whole, you know, labor thing, but still. Panic will be present.

The baby has a room, but it is not a pretty sight. The only way you can tell it is a baby's room is because of the crib in the corner. Otherwise it looks like a disaster area. Although I am not going to let him out of my sight for the first 18 years of his life, therefore he is going to sleep in our room. However, our room is not a pretty sight either. The good thing is that the room is huge. I mean HUGE. I honestly think that my current bedroom is the size of the entire apartment we had in California. 

Speaking of which, when I called to get utilities set up for the new house, they pulled up records that stated the square footage of our house. In Irvine, we lived in a 2 bedroom apartment that was about 900 square feet. The woman on  the phone told me that our garage was 850 square feet alone. I could live in the garage. Seriously. Not that I would want to. There is no air conditioning out there, and there are bugs, lots of bugs....

Okay, I digress. What the heck was I talking about? 

Oh yes, our bedroom. It is huge and therefore the mess is not as noticeable because it is spread out.

So I guess what I am saying is that if this baby comes early, he is going to have to sleep in a wardrobe box next to my bed. (Don't worry, I will leave it open for ventilation).

So, baby, please wait for at least another 5 weeks, because by then the house will be perfect (ha!) did I say perfect? I meant decent. The house will be decent, you will be old enough to not require a stay in the NICU, and mommy can enjoy her 2 weeks on the couch, in front of the tv, with a dr pepper in one hand, and you in my arms.

Because you know that you aren't leaving these arms until you turn 18. I mean it.